


The Blues of Studio Lighting

by theoriginalicecreamqueen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: CSI!Barry, Established Relationship, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, artist!Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoriginalicecreamqueen/pseuds/theoriginalicecreamqueen
Summary: Leonard Snart can't seem to get his latest painting right, and it is driving him insane. Barry can't help but agree with the last sentiment.





	The Blues of Studio Lighting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vamptigergal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamptigergal/gifts).



 

Len stared blankly at the painting in front of him. Something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. The night sky showed the dark, oppressive sheen he was going for, and the forest had the right ominous feel, but it still felt like something was missing from his work. The painting was not somber enough, he decided. Maybe more blue would fix it?

 

“Lenny, are you still in there?” A warm, familiar voice called out behind him. Len ignored it. He didn’t have time for any distractions, no matter how enticing they might be.

 

“Ignoring me would work a lot better without your light on,” the voice whispered in his ear as arms snuck around his waist. He felt the gentle press of lips against his neck. It was divine, but he pulled away regardless of the emptiness the action left.

 

“I don’t have time for this right now, Barry,” Len murmured. He didn’t bother turning around, so he didn’t see the look of hurt that he knew passed over his lover’s face at his words.

 

“You mean you don’t have time for me?” guessed Barry. He quickly retracted his arms as he spoke. Len didn’t deign to respond. The words didn’t matter currently, although Len was sure he would care about them later. He needed to fix his work first, and then he could worry about his problems with Barry.

 

“Fine. You want to be that way? Go right ahead. I’m going to bed,” the younger man scoffed. Len waved him off briefly before immersing himself once more in the painting. It wasn’t right yet, and Len couldn’t rest until it was.

 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

 

 

Barry woke up alone. He wished it surprised him, but lately he was always alone when he awoke. He usually was when he went to bed too. Len had become obsessed with his work, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to snap his partner out of whatever odd state it was putting him in. He absolutely hated it, but he couldn’t figure out how to change things.

 

Not knowing what else to do, Barry put tried his best to put these thoughts behind him as he rose and started his morning routine. Every part of it felt wrong without Len there. No one was around to make fun of his Superman toothbrush, and he still had not gotten used to showering alone again. It had been weeks since Len was in this strange funk, and Barry couldn’t get used to not having him around.

 

His partner was still physically present in their apartment, but things just weren’t the same. Len barely left his studio, and even then he hardly exchanged a word with Barry. It was all clipped, business like phrases. It was like they weren’t partners in every sense of the word, or like Len didn’t love him anymore. Barry could feel the love of life slipping away in a sea of fog, and no matter how hard he fought to reach Len, his partner didn’t care to grab hold.

 

Barry sighed deeply as he entered the empty kitchen. A month ago, Len would have been in here making him breakfast. He had always fretted over Barry’s eating habits, claiming that Barry was far too thin. Barry was fairly sure that Len used it as an excuse to spend time together, but he had always enjoyed the benefits. That was not the case right now, so he forced himself not to acknowledge the flair of disappointment he felt as he walked to the pantry for a bowl of cereal.

 

He was certain it would have been unsuccessful if it was not to the single red rose taped to the door. Len had always loved him with anything red. He claimed the color suited him like no other, which Barry had appreciated, even if he did think it was complete and utter bullshit. Then again, that’s what happens when a scientist falls in love with an artist.

 

Barry undid the tape on his present, taking a deep smell while he untangled the small piece of paper taped to the base of the bud.

 

_“A flower for my flower.”_

 

Barry snorted at the corniness of Len’s note, but it didn’t stop the smile that blossomed simultaneously across his face, or the laughter that erupted when he realized Len had managed to get him thinking in stupid puns. Things were not right in their little world, but Barry knew this was Len’s way of showing him they would be again.

 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

 

 

Len started at the blank canvas in front of him. He knew the last time he painted this scene it wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Adding more blues had helped, but it hadn’t gotten to the core of his issue with the piece. He didn’t think he’d had enough room on his last canvas to do the image justice, but now that he had a larger backdrop to work from. He wasn’t sure it would get the job done either.

 

“Len! I’m home. Where are you?” shouted Barry, slamming their front door behind him as he spoke.

 

“In the studio,” Len called back. He probably shouldn’t have bothered. He wasn’t done working yet, and Barry was bound to want to draw his attention away. Len knew Barry deserved it too, of course he did, but he wasn’t ready pull himself away.

 

Barry entered the room as quietly as he ever did, meaning with loud stomps and shuffling noises but no actual words. Len let out a soft chuckles at Barry’s attempts at stealth, and Barry playfully poked his side for it as he drew closer.

 

“You going to be through any time soon?”

 

Barry had waited a minute to speak, but once he did Len felt the words wrap around him as though they were trying to suck the air from his chest. God, he wanted to put this up for the night to wrap Barry in his arms. It would have been lovely to forget this stupid painting tonight, but Len couldn’t bring himself to leave it yet.

 

“I don’t think so,” Len admitted reluctantly.

 

Barry sighed as he turned his face away from Len’s and back towards the door. Len wanted him to go through it and away from the darkness in his head, almost as much as the idea of Barry leaving now terrified him. He wondered how many more times Barry would put up with this behavior. He hated that Barry had let Len do this to him at all. Barry seemed to gather himself up before he turned back to Len. It was as though he need to gather all his strength for his simple request.

 

“Can I stay then, at least for a while? I promise I won’t disturb you.”

 

“Of course,” Len quickly agreed. Something felt right with that idea. He wanted Barry with him. He always had, since they met. He couldn’t leave his work, but having Barry there might actually make it bearable.

 

Now that he was no longer alone, the image he needed formed in his mind once more. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence, but by the time they went to sleep entangled in each other’s arms, Len felt like he was finally on the right path once more.

 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

 

 

“Hello! Is anyone home?” a dulcet voice rang through the house, shattering Barry’s apparently false illusions of privacy.

 

“Lisa! What are you doing here? I mean, we weren’t expecting you,” he rushed to greet their guest as she hung her own coat and attempted to dry herself off.

 

She wasn’t very successful, but considering the weather she had braved to visit them that wasn’t surprising. Barry didn’t mind that she was making a mess in her wake. He loved Len’s sister like she was his own, and her presence in their quiet flat was already causing relief to flood through his system. Lisa was a close as there was to an expert on Leonard Snart, and if anyone could pull Len from his funk it was the spitfire currently munching on his still cooking dinner.

 

“Gross, Barr. You do know there are other seasonings besides salt and pepper?” judged Lisa, making a over-exaggerated face at his attempts at making gravy.

 

“Well excuse me, your highness. Next time I’ll be sure to get take out for your visit. All you have to do is let me know when you are coming,” he teased her.

 

She giggled at his words, swatting him with her stolen spoon as she stirred his admittedly lackluster food. He allowed her to add to it as she wished. Lisa was a far better cook then he could ever hope to be. Maybe with her interference what he was making would actually turn out halfway decent. Len could certainly do with some better food. He had been eating way too much of Barry’s cooking lately, and they were both losing weight because of it. He may have been a forensic scientist, but his chemistry skill had never transferred to his cooking abilities.

 

“Why are you cooking anyways? I thought that was Lenny’s job. We all know your shit at it,” Lisa spoke again after a moment, peering around the open space as though she expected her brother to be hiding behind the sofa or the dining room table.

 

Barry didn’t bother with a proper explanation. He merely pointed at the door to Len’s studio where the light was still seeping through the closed frame.

 

“It’s almost 10 o’clock. I thought you two had a rule about working this late? It’s part of why I waited so late to drop by,” Lisa frowned.

 

“We did,” he stated. He didn’t offer he further explanation. Lisa was a smart woman, and he had plenty of faith in her ability to figure out the rest for herself. It wasn’t his place to divulgue Len’s secrets, but it also wasn’t his job to hide these things from their sister.

 

“I’ll get him then!” she announced. Lisa forced an unnatural amount of cheer in her voice that caused them both to wince. She wasn’t that kind of person, and Barry didn’t have it in him to fake cheer it for her sake at the moment.

 

“Don’t bother. Please.” Barry hated how much it sounded like he was begging, but he didn’t think he could handle the look on Lisa’s face if she ended up as unsuccessful as he had been. Barry was hurting too much already.

 

Lisa frowned at him unhappily as she dished out their salvaged dinner, but she allowed them their privacy. He knew that wouldn’t last forever, but he appreciated what she was willing to give them now anyways.

 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

 

 

Len couldn’t sleep once again. His sister’s face was stuck in his mind as though he had been staring at it all day instead of the same scene from his work. His beautiful, perfect little sister together with his (debatably) even more perfect partner. They had been smiling and laughing when Len joined them. He hadn’t been ready to quit for the night, but their voices had sung out to him like a siren’s call, and he had been unable to stop himself from soaking in the warmth of their company.

 

Now that Lisa returned to her own home, and Barry was sound asleep, Len’s thoughts were drifting once more. He wanted to get out of bed and return to his studio, but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb Barry. The younger man had been thrilled to have Len join them at a semi-decent hour, and he had fallen asleep cuddling with Len. The harder Barry slept, the more that was turning in to full-fledged cocooning around him. As much as Len felt the need to return to his work, his desire to stay with Barry was far stronger.

 

So Len stared at the plain white ceiling above him in the darkness as he planned what strokes, colors, and lines would make the image in his head appear the way he needed this piece to. Len still hadn’t gotten things right, and he couldn’t rest until he did.

 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

 

 

“You’re still in here.”

 

Barry didn’t bother phrasing a question this time. Len wasn’t going to be done soon, and they both knew it. He was obsessed with this painting in a way Barry had never seen, and it felt like he was losing a more pieces of Len as each day passed in this same, awful manner.

 

“The painting isn’t done yet,” Len commented lightly, as though the words weren’t driving spikes into Barry’s chest. “It’s getting better though.”

 

“Is it, Len? You’ve been at this for weeks, and I don’t see an end in sight. When is it going to be done? This is what, your fifth version?” Barry accused.

 

Len frowned at his word, but he didn’t respond verbally for a long time. It made Barry want to scream.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get this done, and everything will go back to the way it was,” stated Len. It felt like Len’s words - his continuing lie - released a dam inside Barry he didn’t even know was this close to breaking.

 

“Why do you have to keep doing this to yourself? To us? Fuck Len, I need you to give me something. I’ve tried being there for you, being patient, and nothing is working. It feels like you are tearing me apart inside as much as this stupid fucking painting is tearing you up too,” Barry begged. He needed Len to answer. Barry loved Len more than he he had thought was possible, but he couldn’t keep going like this.

 

“Because I’m terrified I’m going I’m going forget what I did! What it looked like. Fuck, someone should remember. He may have been a piece of shit, but Lewis was still my father, and someone needs to remember how he died!” Len exploded.

 

Of course that was this what about, Barry thought as his blood turned to ice in his veins. He had guessed it may have something to do with Len’s behavior, but he hadn’t realized what his partner had been painting. The paintings were all of the forest outside the Snart family cabin. It was where Len had killed his father.

 

“I didn’t know,” he whispered.

 

Barry had been there that night after Len had done it. He wasn’t allowed to process the scene, but he had still sat there with Len while his co-workers examined everything in those godforsaken woods. They had been there for hours. How did he not recognize what Len had been painting?

 

“You didn’t know,” Len sneered at him. “What’s wrong Barry? You really thought I’d murder my own father and forget about it like that?”

 

“You didn’t murder anyone, Len! You did what you had to do to save our family. Our real family Lenny. That’s me, you, and Lisa, and not that sick bastard who tried to take you from us. No one blames you for what happened. He put a bomb in Lisa! Everything you did was to protect her. I know it, she knows it, and so does the rest of the CCPD! The only one who can’t seem to get it is you. Fuck Lenny, I need you to believe me. I need you to come back to me because neither of us can keep going like this. It wasn’t your fault! Lenny, please.”

 

Barry was sobbing by the end of his argument. He could feel himself falling apart as he spoke. Watching Len fall apart across from him made it a million times worse. He was finally crying too. It was the first time since Len had learned for sure Lisa and Barry were safe he let himself cry, or at least the first time he had done so in front of Barry.

 

He wasn’t sure which of them reached for each other first. Perhaps it was both of them. Barry only knew they collapsed in each other’s arms, whispering apologizes and vows of love they both needed to hear. It didn’t make things right with them, but it was a step in that direction. For the first time since Lewis Snart died and Leonard lost himself in his art, Barry finally believed they would be alright once more. It wouldn’t come quickly, and their journey would not be easy. That was fine with him. He never doubted for a second that his partner was worth everything Barry could give him.


End file.
